


Frustration

by milkyuu



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, M/M, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkyuu/pseuds/milkyuu
Summary: Darkiplier's been frustrated after his more intimate needs aren't met for the longest time.That is, until an argument with a more quiet ego solves it.





	Frustration

**Author's Note:**

> just a warning, this fic contains dry humping, degradation, and dirty talk. if that isn't your cup of tea, feel free to leave now. ♡
> 
> for an anon on tumblr!! i adore this pairing now and dominant host is?? so?? fucking good??
> 
> hope yall enjoy!!

Dark has always been quiet about his more...intimate needs. Modest and silent about his own sex life and sexual tastes. Why should he announce who his latest lover was, what porn he got off to, or his favorite sexual positions like the other egos discuss? 

Not like he'd have anything to contribute anyways. As much he didn't want to admit it -- being one of the leaders of the egos and keeping up his dramatic and mysterious image -- it'd had been a long time since he'd felt pleasure. Since he felt the embrace of someone else. To feel up and down someone's smooth curves and hear his name among their moans. 

The sexual frustration was already building inside him day by day. Wincing if any of the egos touched his arm or bumped into his chest. Snapping at anyone who crept up behind him, their firm chest against his back. Even yelling at Wilford when he had stood too close to him while they talked face to face -- wanting nothing more than to crash his lips against the happy go lucky murderer. 

Maybe it's that same sexual frustration that caused Dark to finally snap at one of the quieter egos -- The Host. 

"I said no." Dark groaned as walked away from The Host into his own office. The whole team of egos had been hard at work developing their programs for Wilford's new channel; Markiplier TV.

"The Host inquires why Dark would oppose such an idea," the other ego stated, slowly following, "as if he didn't give the okay on an even more ridiculous idea."

"Because nobody listens to radio anymore, Host." Dark replied bluntly. Trying to hurry to his office. "It's not the 1950s. Want to start some silly radio show about your stories? Go start a podcast."

"The Host reminds Dark that classic conventions can never be replaced. Podcasts hold nothing to old radio shows. To force me to do such is an insult, sir."

'Sir'

Fuck. 

That single word making Dark shiver. Closing his eyes as he opens his office door. That single word the start of many of his fantasies. That single word placing the image of The Host on his knees behind his desk -- placing his hard cock into his open mouth, moaning around the head...

He tries to close the door in time. The Host catching the door with his shoe, leaving Dark to wonder how the blond ego did. Shaking his head and moving over to his desk. Opting to sit on the leather couch reserved for guests in front of his desk rather than the office chair he's grown use to. 

Freezing up as he hears the click of the door locking. Alone, with his own pent up sexual needs, obscene images, and the ego who is in said images? Absolute /torture/.

"Host," Dark groans, "I am not wasting more money on plans that won't work. Wilford's amazingly stupid plan is working fine now -- why can't you just open a slot on the television channel?"

"The Host circles around Dark in his office. Rather annoyed he has to explain his reasoning again to an ego he thought would understand." he does as he narrated. His dress shoes thumping softly as he circles around Dark. A predator sizing up it's prey. 

"I have no desire to open up a slot like the others have on Wilford's television channel. My stories do not require actors or producers or cameras. My stories ride solely on my voice and deliverance."

"Could you be anymore conceited?" Dark groans, "Host. I have spent thousands and thousands of dollars on the television channels. You know why?" 

He watches The Host stop and stand in front of him. If he had vision, Dark would imagine he'd be staring him down with dark onyx eyes. 

Or staring at him with half lidded eyes. Those same dark onyx eyes staring down as Dark sinks his hard cock into him. Rolling his hips against his ass as he drowns in The Host's pleasured moans.

"Why is that?" The Host speaks up, ripping Dark from his fantasies. 

Damn it. 

"Because Wilford has proven to me he can make back that money while still focusing on taking control of Mark's channel and image. Because I knew, as idiotic as it was, I get the money back. You?" he scoffs. Not noticing the slightest hint of anger in The Host's lip, "I can't trust."

"Care to elaborate, sir?" 

There it was again. 

Dark now imagined The Host on his lap. His own cock in hand against Dark's. Jerking them both, the slick heat around his cock making The Host lean down and passionately kiss him. Tongue in mouth as they groaned. 

"Because that money won't be made back and I'll -- we'll -- be in debt. I can't afford that kind of trouble, Host. Besides, radio is /dead/ as an entertainment. Radio shows are /dead/. Your idea is already /dead/." Dark crosses his arms as he feels himself getting worked up. His cock giving the slightest twitch.

All thanks to the mental image he had of The Host being bent over his desk. Slick fingers moving quickly in and out of his hole, preparing himself for him. His trench coat bunched up around his lower back -- clad only in his trench coat. 

Dark was so wrapped up in the dirty image he hadn't noticed The Host cornering him closer to the edge of the leather couch. Hadn't noticed the downright rage filled expression he had. Teeth bared and breathing heavily. 

"I...did not come here to be insult by such -- wicked and vile words!" he downright screamed in his face. Pure raw emotion. Shaking Dark to his core. 

"You are an absolute fool! Every single one of you! Here I was, thinking I'd be greeted with open arms by one of the more intelligent egos but I was wrong!" 

The Host moved in closer, his knee resting on the couch as he shouted more. 

"I know it would work! You give that pink bastard a chance, give the idiotic android a chance, hell -- even give those dumbass Jim twins a chance but not me?! The only one who's had fame before being stuck in this physical embodiment?! I was a best selling author, I was a celebrity, my stories sold millions and will receive millions again with my idea--"

Dark tried to push him back. Freezing up as The Host was resting a hand near his bulging hard on. Already worked up from the yelling and shouts the more dominant ego had. No, God please don't let him feel it. Don't let him get closer. Just...he needs to leave and finally take care of his needs. He needs to leave.

"Why am I always excluded?! I am--I..."

The Host stops. His hand grazing past Dark's bulge. The pinned ego whimpering -- actually whimpering -- as he did. The Host moving his knee, which was placed in between Dark's thighs, against the bulge again. Earning another whimper from Dark. 

Dark felt his body shake as he saw The Host smirk. A few strands of jet black hair falling in front of his bloodied bandages. A smirk that held mischievous intentions. Ones Dark was torn between agreeing to or running away from. 

"...I hear what the others say about you, Sir."

Dark huffs. Each movement making his hard on rub up against The Host's knee. 

"I hear them laugh about how you seem so prude. So frustrated." He presses his hand down into Dark's inner thigh, "Wilford laughs about how long it's been since you two been intimate. Dr. Iplier laughs about how you don't masturbate during these times. Bingiplier laughs at how he's had the pleasure of fucking someone all night long while you sit -- pent up all day and night."

"Host--I..." he groans as the other traces circles around his bulge, not touching him just yet. 

"That's just what I've heard. You don't remember I can narrate other's thoughts? You don't remember I can hear and see what you think of me, Sir?"

Dark groans, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. He was fucked. The Host seeing and imagining all the dirty images he had of him. The entire time they've argued. 

"I must say, your imagination -- as explicit as it is -- intrigues me. I would be glad to assist such a downright obscene mind have peace." He lifts his free hand to cup Dark's heated cheek, "will you accept my offer, sir?"

His mind clouded in lust and hesitation. He knew he'd have to owe The Host back something. He knew if he pushed The Host off now, it'd only serve in blackmail. He knew he wanted just finally feel someone hold and pleasure him after so many weeks.

He reaches up and tugs at The Host's trench coat. The other ego's lips connecting with his. Soft and cold, groaning as he finally feels another body against his. Pulling away for a mere few seconds before attack The Host's mouth with his own. 

"Dear God, please --"

The two move against each other on the leather couch. The Host moving them around so he sat on the couch while Dark sat on his lap. Straddling his thigh. The awkward position not stopping Dark, hands moving up and down The Host's body, unbuttoning his black dress shirt and rolling his hips against his firm thigh. Still kissing The Host as if it was his last moments alive.

It very well might be with the way his heart is beating. Wincing as The Host pulls away, smirk on his lips.

"Host. oh God, Host /please/--"

"Shh," he whispers as he undresses Dark. Pulling away his suit jacket. Grabbing the end of his tie with his teeth and moaning as he pulls. The knot coming undone as Dark groans, the sight making him throb in his tight pants. Quickly unbuttoning his white dress shirt. The sweaty and heated skin underneath meeting the cool air of the office. 

"You're such a filthy whore, Sir." The Host mutters as he sucks on Dark's shoulder. Nipping along the monochrome skin. Heated moans spilling from Dark's mouth at the degrading words, body practically on fire as he humps The Host's thigh again. Knowing how ridiculous he looked, humping away like some crazed animal, that mere thought alone turning him on more. Knowing The Host made him his worked up. 

"I am," he cursed as The Host's hands caressed and grabbed at his ass. Pressing his skilled fingers into the soft clothed flesh. 

"A filthy whore who gets off to anything." The Host groans, "slow down, Sir. Don't end the fun too quickly," he laughs as he sucks at one of Dark's nipples. Rolling the hard bud in his mouth as he continued to nip over to the next one. 

Dark downright growls as he feels The Host's own hard on. Hand reaching down to rub him through the expensive fabric of his pants. The other's grip on his ass tightening as he does. 

"Dirty fuckin' slut. You'd love for me to fuck you into the desk. Where anyone can walk in and see you as the whore you are." 

Dark can only nod as the dominant ego moves them again. Dark laying down on the leather couch as The Host lays in between his legs. Their clothed erections moving against each other. Dark too turned on to even suggest a different position. God, it's been so long since he's been with anyone. So long since anyone's touched him this way. So long since he's /comed/.

The Host rolls his hips experimentally. Chuckling as Dark arches gently. His own hips bucking up. 

"How does that feel, Sir?"

Dark huffs, "so fucking good. Just want you all to myself, want you to be mine."

"You want me to yourself?" He asks, voice sultry, making heat pool in his belly. "A dirty whore who wants to fuck anything in sight. Humping against me like it's your first time. You want to fuck me so badly, don't you?" 

A sharp thrust against his hard throbbing cock makes Dark whimper. The heat inside him growing, spreading out in his body. The sight of the other ego above him, his black dress shirt opened, exposing his lean stomach and muscles. Said muscles moving as he continued to rut against him. 

"Fucking me in the meeting room, watching me sink down on your fat cock. Splitting me open, God, you'd fill me up so good. So good for me, Sir. Fucking me against the glass in the meeting room, letting everyone see how much of a horny animal you /really are/."

The ego above him's hips moved faster and faster. Growing closer himself. Dark could feel himself tighten up. He just needs that one kick to send him over the edge. To break the dry spell he's had. To relieve him of /everything/.

Slowly, The Host lowers himself to Dark's face. Whispering, "dirty whores like you don't deserve to cum on me. You're going to cum straight in your fucking pants like some horny virgin and /you're gonna like it/. Maybe...oh fuck--" he groaned, "maybe I'll let you fuck me. Fuck my tight hole and milk you dry--"

That did it. 

The promise of The Host kicking him over the edge. The pleasure inside him bursting as he finally came with a yell. Crying out The Host's name as his shook. Soaking his pants in come, a wet spot forming as his cock spurted more and more. Feeling The Host stop and cum as well. One last roll of his hips as he groaned. Quieter than him. Leaning down as his heart raced to kiss Dark deeply again. Their tongues moving against each other in the heated kiss. Shaking as he grabbed a handful of The Host's ass. 

"Thank you...oh fuck, thank you--" he gasps. Calming down after the whole experience. 

He didn't know /exactly/ when he had fallen asleep. He remembers The Host commenting about dry cleaners. Then leaving for a while, and coming back in with a change of clothes from who knows where. He imagines it must have been between the time it took The Host to clean up before changing him. 

All he knew was he woke up in his leather couch late into the afternoon. A typed note on his desk as he adjusted to the orange glow from his spacious view behind the desk. The sun setting across the city. 

'Sir,

I thank you for the wonderful time. You're an incredible partner and even better cuddle-r (is that a word now?) 

I packed your briefcase for the day beside your desk and left your keys by the coat hanger. I will wash your clothes at my home and leave them by your office door tomorrow morning. You deserve some rest after all.

I'm still up for our offer, Sir.

Sincerely yours, 

The Host.'

He smiles. Running a hand through his messy dark locks. Staring out the window at the sun setting, once a bright burning orange now a hazy mix of blues. Looking over at his checkbook.

Hey, maybe they did have a few thousand to spare for a new radio show. 

Anything for his humble Host.


End file.
